


Fuck

by simonsnoww



Series: How Sherlock found out [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Birthday, Coming Out, Deductions, M/M, Sherlock Makes Deductions, inappropriate deductions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonsnoww/pseuds/simonsnoww





	Fuck

“So brother mine, what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

Mycroft had to go over to 221B to sort out a small matter of Sherlock breaking into a crime scene.

 

“Look Sherlock,” Mycroft sighs, “You can’t just break into a crime scene.  It’s driving all of the detectives mad.  Gregory has asked me to come here to speak to you, since he can’t seem to get through to you.”

 

“Since when do you know Graham?” inquires Sherlock, spitting the words with malice at his brother. “If you mess this up, so I can’t get cases…” He left the threat unsaid.

 

“Dr Watson, please try to get through to my brother.”

 

John simply nods; knowing that whatever he was to say wouldn’t work either.  Sherlock has always, and will always, break into crime scenes.

 

At that precise moment, Mycroft’s phone decides to chime loudly, notifying him to an urgent situation at home… including photographs.

 

“Oh fuck,” mutters Mycroft under his breath, “I’ll be leaving now,” he calmly states, willing his voice to remain steady.

 

“Hold on,” states Sherlock, “you don’t swear. You never swear.”

 

“So what?” questions Mycroft, “Am I allowed to leave?” he sneers slightly, hoping he could be home within twenty minutes- obviously a very urgent situation.

 

“So that means that you’re in the presence of someone who swears a lot, for most of the time.”

 

“Good deduction Sherlock, I have an urgent matter waiting for me. Can I leave?”

 

“There are a few more items that I wish to point out. That tie is new.  However it clearly falls miles below your price bracket- you usually go for silk, but this is polyester and cotton.  Someone else has bought it for you- not a colleague, as they’d buy something as ridiculously expensive as what you usually purchase. Therefore a personal contact. Someone who isn’t quite as rich- hence the cheaper tie and the provincial swearing.  Am I right so far?”

 

Mycroft stands frozen to the spot, before quickly pulling himself together. 

“Yes Sherlock I’ve got a friend.  Is it a big deal?” hoping that he wouldn’t realise the true nature of his relationship.

 

“Wait, there’s more,” Sherlock continues with a large breath, having rapidly spoken most of his previous deduction in one breath, “I further deduce that you were given that tie for your birthday, meaning a close personal contact, as it aligns with your true birthday, rather than the one you’ve been assigned to give people.  Therefore a very close personal contact- one that you trust with details.”

 

“Sherlock,” snapped Mycroft, “I need to go now.  Does it really matter?”

 

“Well, judging from that stubble burn, it seems a happy announcement is immanent.” Sherlock mocked.

 

“Sherlock, I’m warning you.  This isn’t your business.”

 

“Immediately very loyal to your little pal.  Well, you didn’t cover up that nice mark on your neck very well, it’s not too hard to deduce what’s going on- never mind the relaxed state you’re in.  Further more an addition of five- no six- pounds, you’ve been visiting restaurants. You wouldn’t put that kind of weight on by just eating at your fancy club; no you’ve been going out.  Sharing a desert?  Oh the domestic bliss.”

 

Mycroft’s phone vibrates again.  He glances down to check, and smothers his expression quickly. But just too slowly.

 

“Sending each other little texts?” jeers Sherlock, “An urgent matter?  You’re shameless.  I suppose he’s waiting for you.  Judging by your stance and your slight limp I’m sure he hasn’t had to wait too long. I mean, we now know who likes what,” he continued to jeer, “Try and leave something to the imagination.”

 

Mycroft stands, frozen in shock.

 

“I’m leaving now,” he states, “John, please try to keep in him check.  Sherlock, a pleasure as always.”


End file.
